


easy

by seiseijoh



Series: i hate you (i've got you) [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Inexperience, communication? illegal, face fucking is mentioned but not featured, they're both super horny but also super soft for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiseijoh/pseuds/seiseijoh
Summary: He is absolutely not going to have sex in the library, not matter how isolated they are and no matter how easy Matsukawa thinks he is. Plus, he needs to study. Really, if he’s honest, he needs to sleep. He’s not going to think about how he sleeps best next to Matsukawa, because that’s very dangerous territory, and instead he eases Matsukawa away from his throat and into another kiss.He keeps it short, ends the kiss quickly and whispers, “Mattsun, not right now. Later?"Matsukawa blinks, his eyelids seemingly heavy as he looks at Hanamaki with eyes only half open. Hanamaki, with hands cupping Matsukawa’s face, bites his lip. The hands on his waist squeeze a little and then let go.He should have known it wouldn’t be that easysequel to thank you, prequel to pretty boy
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Series: i hate you (i've got you) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870471
Comments: 13
Kudos: 125
Collections: expressions of love





	easy

**Author's Note:**

> these just keep getting very slightly longer each time wtf
> 
> this is entirely dedicated to caandlelit ilysm

Hanamaki is tired.

He’s just over halfway into his first year of university, and coming up to the first set of major assessments and exams. He’s been sleeping less so he can study more, determined to finish up the year with the best marks possible. Plus, any moment he hasn’t been studying or in class, he’s been at work – he’s been blessed enough that his parents are paying for his housing and university expenses, but food and disposable income are sourced solely from his part time convenience store gig. And he rather likes to eat.

With a sigh, Hanamaki scrubs at his eyes, and then stares back down at the book he’s trying to read. It was making sense an hour ago, but it’s possible that the author switched to a different language halfway through because now he can’t understand a single word on the page.

Instead of continuing to try and decipher what might be Japanese, might be German, Hanamaki leans back in his chair and grabs his phone. Breaks are important, he reasons, and he can’t actually remember the last time he took one. Judging by the fact his phone says it’s four in the afternoon and the last foggy memory he has of not-study is scarfing down some leftovers before making his way to the campus library in the morning, it’s probably well-overdue.

He’s got a couple of notifications, so he clears those out first. A text from his father asking if he’s well, and a photo from Oikawa of what appears to be Iwaizumi napping face-down on his desk in the middle of studying, complete with a cat-ear filter. Once he’s replied – a confirmation to his father that he’s alive, and condolences to Oikawa for his upcoming death once Iwaizumi inevitably sees the photo – he pulls up Twitter, but before it even loads he’s interrupted by a message from Matsukawa.

 **Mattsun:** _hows studying going_

Hanamaki smiles, small and soft. He might be working and studying non-stop, but Matsukawa has still managed to snatch a moment or two of his time here and there. And it’s not something he dislikes. Sure, some time to himself would be great, as would not constantly being covered in marks and bruises; he’s been achy and sore for weeks. But he could also spend that precious time with a guy who’s ridiculously bad at Mario Kart and ridiculously good in bed.

It’s an easy decision.

 **Makki:** _i've either been studying too long or i've forgotten how to read japanese_

 **Mattsun:** _happens to the best of us_

 **Mattsun** : _where u studying_

 **Makki:** _library. thought being on campus might make it easier to focus_

 **Mattsun:** _is it working_

 **Makki:** _ngl it kinda is. taking a break for a bit tho_

 **Mattsun** : _what floor_

 **Makki:** _nope, im not letting u distract me_

 **Mattsun:** _thought u were taking a break_

 **Mattsun:** _im literally five minutes away_

 **Makki:** _ugh fine fifth floor_

 **Mattsun:** _ah the quiet one nice very clever_

 **Mattsun:** _ur so easy lmao_

 **Makki:** _if anyone’s easy in this relationship it’s u, constantly tryin to jump my bones_

 **Mattsun:** _that makes me horny_

 **Mattsun:** _not easy_

 **Mattsun:** _ur the one who takes less than a minute to be convinced to do literally anything_

 **Mattsun:** _especially when it comes to getting ur bones jumped_

Hanamaki squints and starts to type out a reply, but technically Matsukawa is kind of right. So he deletes his weak defence and instead answers:

 **Makki:** _fuck u_

 **Mattsun:** _au contraire_

 **Mattsun:** _fuck ~u~_

 **Makki:** _damn u know french?_

 **Mattsun:** _yeah its very sexy of me_

 **Makki:** _i was gonna say it’s very clever of you, didn’t know u were capable of it_

 **Mattsun:** _r u calling me dumb_

 **Makki:** _maybe_

“You take that back.”

Hanamaki jumps, and turns in his chair towards the low voice. Behind him, Matsukawa is standing with a look of mock outrage, one hand hooked on the strap of his bag and the other holding his phone. Hanamaki laughs.

“I won’t, and you can’t make me.”

Matsukawa smirks. He moves around to the other side of the table and slings his bag underneath before sitting down. It’s a decently-sized table, able to seat at least six people, but Hanamaki has so much of his stuff spread that its surface is almost invisible. Matsukawa folds his arms and leans forward, crunching some papers under his elbows.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he remarks.

Hanamaki rolls his eyes. “So much fun. You taking a break as well?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working on a group project over at that café nearby all afternoon.”

“This is going to sound insane, but I wish I had a group project right now.” Hanamaki scrubs a hand over his face. “It’d be great to take a load off and not have the full weight of these assessments on my shoulders.”

“True, but you also have to trust people to be able to do things properly. And they never can.”

Hanamaki sighs. “No, they can’t.”

They lapse into silence for a moment as Hanamaki looks back down at the textbook in front of him. It’s looking marginally more like Japanese now, which is great. His eyes itch a little, and he rubs them with a yawn.

“Come with me.”

He looks up. Matsukawa’s getting to his feet, looking at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Come on.”

Matsukawa comes around the table and grabs him by the arm. Hanamaki just manages to smother his yelp as he’s yanked from the chair and dragged away. Matsukawa pulls him through the library, passing row after row of shelves and the occasional hard-at-work student, and Hanamaki asks, “Where are we going?”

Matsukawa doesn’t answer him. Instead, he drags him towards one of the furthest corners, where an already-quiet floor became almost untraversed, even in the thick of exam prep. He shoves him into one of the aisles formed by the solid-backed shelves. It’s blocked off at the other end by the wall, and before Hanamaki can ask anything else, Matsukawa pushes him up against it to kiss him.

Hanamaki can feel, can taste, the desire and need in the kiss. Matsukawa wants him, and he wants him now. Matsukawa always seems to want him which, Hanamaki won’t lie, has given his confidence levels a huge boost since they began their arrangement. Yet despite that the kiss is soft, almost exploratory, as if Matsukawa hasn’t spent the past half a year or more getting intimately acquainted with every millimetre of his mouth – of his entire body. Instead of groping him or pulling him closer like Hanamaki expects, he rests his hands on the other’s waist, absently rubbing his thumbs over his shirt.

When he breaks the kiss, Matsukawa nips at Hanamaki’s bottom lip before going for his throat. Hanamaki groans as Matsukawa alternates between sucking at the prominent hickey over his pulse point and worrying the skin with his teeth.

“Mattsun,” he says, “You keep distracting me … I really gotta study…”

Ever since the incident in the stairwell six days ago, Matsukawa has been increasingly demanding of his attention – as well as exceedingly affectionate. On the day in question, Matsukawa had walked him home, ordered in food, and they’d just relaxed while watching movies for a few hours, until Hanamaki had decided he did feel up to being paid back that night – and _fuck_ , did Matsukawa pay him back. Hanamaki had never come just from being fingered before, but it was like Matsukawa had something to prove, because not only had he showered him with multiple orgasms without ever touching his dick, he’d also then proceeded to fuck him so well that Hanamaki had had to stay home from classes the next day because he was still trying to get reacquainted with the concept of walking.

Their respective jobs and studying had kept them apart for a few days, and then Matsukawa had managed to catch him after a heavy day of classes and drag him to the closest bathroom for a hand job. And then the next day he’d invited Hanamaki over, ostensibly for a study session, but the session had ended with Hanamaki bent over the kitchen table, hands pinned above his head and Matsukawa’s teeth at the back of his neck. He’s not about to complain – even though he’s sore and bruised, he’s going to do whatever it takes to get Matsukawa to utterly fuck him up again as soon as their schedules allow. But right now? He is absolutely not going to have sex in the library, not matter how isolated they are and no matter how easy Matsukawa thinks he is. Plus, he needs to study. Really, if he’s honest, he needs to sleep. He’s not going to think about how he sleeps best next to Matsukawa, because that’s very dangerous territory, and instead he eases Matsukawa away from his throat and into another kiss.

He keeps it short, ends the kiss quickly and whispers, “Mattsun, not right now. Later?”

Matsukawa blinks, his eyelids seemingly heavy as he looks at Hanamaki with eyes only half open. Hanamaki, with hands cupping Matsukawa’s face, bites his lip. The hands on his waist squeeze a little and then let go.

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Hanamaki doesn’t have time to react. One second, he’s thinking about where in their busy lives he could squeeze in another quick fuck – if he spends the rest of the day studying, then maybe tomorrow afternoon, after Matsukawa’s morning shift at the café and before Hanamaki’s late class? – and then the next second, Matsukawa has dropped to his knees, unzipped Hanamaki’s jeans, and taken his dick in his mouth.

Hanamaki makes a strangled sound, before remembering where he is and clamping a hand over his mouth. He presses back heavily against the wall, his other hand yanking at Matsukawa’s hair.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses through his fingers.

Matsukawa pulls back and looks up at him. There’s a heat in his eyes that makes Hanamaki a little weak at the knees, and it takes him a moment to realise the other is talking.

“You wanted to take a load off,” he says quietly, and far too matter-of-factly. “And you’re right. You need to relax. We both do. Studying to death isn’t going to help either of us.”

Hanamaki’s mouth goes dry, which makes it hard to stutter, “M-Mattsun...”

“Now shut up, because if you start moaning and cussing like usual, we’re gonna get kicked out.”

Hanamaki wants to shoot back, _oh, you think your head game's that good?_ But before he can, Matsukawa wraps a hand around his dick and takes the rest in his mouth, and Hanamaki ends up sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth.

He's not hard yet, but Matsukawa is determined to get him there quickly, hand and mouth both working in tandem. Hanamaki doesn’t know what to do with himself – in the end, he buries both hands in Matsukawa's hair as an anchor.

He wonders, distantly, what on Earth he's done to deserve this. Months ago, after their second hook up, they’d decided they needed to set some boundaries. Hanamaki had said he was into biting but not being hit, and Matsukawa had said he was into rough sex but not giving head. Which was fine; they were more than compatible enough in other ways. So it makes Hanamaki's head spin for more reasons than one to have Matsukawa on his knees, one hand tight on his hip while the other coaxes him to full hardness alongside his tongue.

Matsukawa runs said tongue along the underside of his dick, swirls around the head and then sinks back down. Hanamaki clenches his jaw so tightly that he’s sure it's going to give him a migraine, and screws his eyes shut.

Matsukawa Issei is sucking his dick. Matsukawa _fucking_ Issei, who ‘does not ever suck dick’, is sucking his dick, and _oh fuck_ , he's sliding his hand away to fit more in.

Hanamaki opens his eyes. There’s no way he’s going to look down and actually see Matsukawa Issei there between his shaking legs. Not a chance in hell. He’s hallucinating, from lack of sleep or starvation or stress or something. That’s the only thing that makes sense. But when he looks down, there he is – lips stretched around him, looking up at him intensely with tears in the corners of his eyes as Hanamaki’s dick hits his throat. He pulls off almost immediately, doing his best to stifle a cough, but Hanamaki nearly bites his tongue off trying to contain himself, hips unconsciously pushing forward and following.

Matsukawa presses him back against the wall with both hands slipped under his shirt, rubbing his thumbs almost soothingly over his hips. There’s a determination in his eyes as he stares at Hanamaki’s dick, then glances up at him briefly.

“I was never good at this,” he says, his voice deliciously low and rumbling, “so cut me some slack, okay?”

Hanamaki does not give a single shit, he decides – as long as he doesn’t bite his dick off, Matsukawa can do whatever the hell he wants with the wet heat of his mouth and his sinful little tongue. Truth be told, he doesn’t have a lot of experience with receiving blowjobs; he can count the number he’s received on one hand. He’s more well-versed in giving, and in that regard, he’s (dimly) aware of a few things Matsukawa could do to make it easier on himself. But considering his dick is currently in the mouth of a guy who’d sworn he’d never put a dick in his mouth, Hanamaki isn’t about to say anything that could ruin the moment. Besides, if this is a _thing_ now, and fuck, Hanamaki hopes this is a _thing_ now, he can always give him some pointers down the line.

They get as far as last time – Matsukawa’s gag reflex is triggered, and he pulls off while trying not to choke too loudly. Hanamaki stares up at the ceiling, both fists tight in the other’s hair, breathing heavily and praising any and every deity in existence for bringing this demon into his life. His jaw hurts, and he only grinds his teeth harder when Matsukawa drags the flat of his tongue along the length of his dick.

Just as a moan bubbles up in his throat, the sound of soft footsteps distracts him. Heart thundering, he yanks Matsukawa off by the hair, but he already knows it’s too late. There’s no way he can get himself covered up in time, and Matsukawa is on his knees with spit dripping down his chin. They’re fucked.

The footsteps come closer, and then shift direction – into the aisle next to them. There’s the familiar sound of rifling through books, the rustling of pages as whoever it is flicks through what they’ve selected. Hanamaki stares at Matsukawa, eyes wide. Matsukawa stares back, his mouth curving into a smirk. The person in the next aisle starts humming, soft and absent-minded. Hanamaki swallows. Matsukawa, never taking his eyes off him, laps at the head of his dick, and the physical pain in Hanamaki’s chest from holding back a whine feels like he’s being trampled.

The humming transforms into an interested little sound, before the footsteps start again. This time, once they’re out of the aisle, they recede, until the pair are once again alone and Hanamaki can heave air in and out of his burning lungs.

He pulls harshly on Matsukawa’s hair as the ‘fuck you’ he can’t voice, because if he opens his mouth then every sound he wants to make is going to come tumbling out. Matsukawa smirks again.

“Don’t worry so much,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

He squeezes Hanamaki’s hips comfortingly, before trying once again to get him down his throat. He gets a little further this time – Hanamaki shudders, hips jerking forward and his breathing jagged as he tries not to moan at the sensation of Matsukawa’s throat tightening around him. But then Matsukawa reels back again, struggling to cough quietly, nails digging into Hanamaki’s skin. When he can breathe again, he eyes the offender intently, but before he can try again, Hanamaki untangles his fingers from his hair to cup his face and tilt his head up.

He hopes his message is conveyed properly through his gaze – _stop trying to beat your gag reflex, dumbass_. Matsukawa looks up at him, and it’s almost enough to break him. His eyes are watery, a few tears have tracked down his face, his lips are red and swelling, and the lower half of his face is slick with spit. For a second, an image flashes in his mind, of Matsukawa looking up at him with the same wet, determined eyes, choking on his dick as Hanamaki forces him onto it by his hair, fucks his throat – he grits his teeth and rocks his hips slightly against the press of the other’s hands. Matsukawa likes it rough, but would he like that, being on the receiving end? Hanamaki _really_ fucking hopes so – and that he has the chance to find out.

Matsukawa nods, and Hanamaki sees the recognition in his eyes. He slides his hands back into Matsukawa’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Matsukawa’s lips quirk up into a smug smile before he licks teasingly at the head of his dick.

He brings one hand back to handle what his mouth can’t as he sinks down again, but not as far as before. The pressure, the heat, the wetness, the friction as he moves, the teasing of his tongue – Hanamaki’s head is spinning. He wants to swear, moan, encourage Matsukawa with a breathy ‘ _fuck, yes, Issei, like that, more’_. And the closer Matsukawa brings him to the edge, the harder that want is to control. But he knows it’s not worth getting caught, even if it feels like it is. He comforts himself with the knowledge that he’ll be able to make as much noise as he likes when he uses this as jacking off material for the next forever.

He tugs at Matsukawa’s hair sharply as a warning before loosening his hold so he can pull off. But he doesn’t, instead drawing the tip of his tongue along his length and then engulfing him, and Hanamaki comes with a stuttering exhale.

The second it’s over and Hanamaki lets go, Matsukawa leans back and grabs some tissues from his back pocket. He spits into the wad, then takes a second to breathe before wiping what he can from his face. Hanamaki watches him, legs trembling.

“Did you come prepared?” he asks shakily.

Matsukawa glances at him and grins with a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.” Then, wrinkling his nose, says, “That’s fucking disgusting. Why do you swallow all the time?”

Hanamaki laughs. “It’s an acquired skill. I don’t do it because I like it.”

“So why do it?”

“Because you like it.”

Matsukawa cocks his head thoughtfully, then nods. “It is kinda hot.”

Hanamaki laughs again. Matsukawa tucks him back into his jeans before getting to his feet – he stumbles, and Hanamaki grabs his arm to steady him.

“Feeling relaxed?” Matsukawa asks with a downright insolent little grin.

“I was, until you saying that reminded me that I have exams to study for, and I should get back to that.”

“Killjoy.”

As they make their way back to their table, Matsukawa discretely discards the tissues in the bin with an entirely unsuspicious whistle, and Hanamaki realises that they’re not going to talk about this. Matsukawa had just broken one of his own rules, one he’d been very specific about, and the moment to talk about it has been and gone. Sure, he could bring it up later, but if Matsukawa had wanted to talk about it, surely he would have? Hanamaki doesn’t even really care about the why – he just wants to know if he’s allowed to expect more. Is this a _thing_? The horny part of his brain desperately hopes it is, but the more rational part knows it probably isn’t. 

They sit down across from each other. Hanamaki stares blankly at the copious notes and reading material spread out in front of him. Matsukawa pulls out his phone, glances at it, then raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, you doing anything tomorrow? Other than that late class?” he asks.

Hanamaki blinks. “No.”

“Iwaizumi wants to swap shifts. He wants me to take his Friday and he’ll take my morning shift tomorrow.” Matsukawa props his chin in his hand and smiles slyly. “So I’ll be free. Feel like coming over?”

“You’re a fucking menace.” Hanamaki rolls his eyes. “I don’t know how you’re passing any classes when all you seem to be able to think about is sex.”

Matsukawa shrugs. “It’s a gift.”

Hanamaki sighs. He lets the pause linger and then, breaking into a soft smile, he shakes his head and says, “Come over to mine.”

“You’re so easy, Makki,” Matsukawa snorts.

Maybe, Hanamaki thinks as he looks back down at his notes, biting his lip. But when it comes to Matsukawa, it’s hard not to be.

**Author's Note:**

> and that rounds out the prequels! the next chronologically is pretty boy so u can go back and reread it with a *~fresh perspective~* lmao
> 
> still one more fic to go in the series tho!


End file.
